


Turn Toward the Moon

by ravebot



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Disabled Character of Color, F/F, M/M, gaara is a lawyer, sakura is a trans girl, there's more i could say but i'll let the story speak for itself, there's some naruhina but it's not what you think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9635126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravebot/pseuds/ravebot
Summary: Naruto is a husband and a dad. This is the life he always thought he wanted for himself, but after an accident at work brings some big changes, he begins to realize that his life as it stands is merely a placeholder for the life he wants to live. But how does he get to where he wants to be?This is a fic about being in your late 20s and trying to navigate a crisis of identity that has no simple solution.





	1. accidents happen, there's one planned today

**Author's Note:**

> "We must turn toward the moon; toward love itself."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE: Made a few edits to this chapter, mostly cosmetic changes. I can never seem to stop re-writing what I've already written.

The hospital lights are blinding. Naruto’s eyes reflexively shut as quickly as they open. He tries again, slower this time. It doesn’t help that everything in the room is so white. And that he feels like he’s swimming, struggling to stay above the surface. It must be the painkillers. He’s pretty sure he remembers one of the doctors telling him she was giving him a morphine drip for the pain. He glances to his left, and cringes at the tubes that are attached to his arm, imagining the long needles that must have been inserted there. It’s silly for him to be fearful of what happened while he was unconscious, but he is deathly afraid of needles. At least one of these IVs must be the morphine, he concludes, before his eyes shut again.

 

\- - - - -

 

_ The slamming of a door. The all consuming darkness of a bedroom where Naruto sits, alone. The sound of voices. Hushed, angry, disappointed. They did not want him. They were going to give him up. Just like they always did. _

_ Naruto pulls his legs to his tightening chest and silent sobs escaped despite his best efforts to hold them in. Small hands grip his bedsheets, now wet with tears. He is going to be alone again. No, he is already alone. He has always been alone. Alone and unwanted, with no way to escape the crushing weight of it. _

 

\- - - - -

 

The next time Naruto opens his eyes, he feels much more lucid. And - _ugh_ \- there is pain now. A lot of pain. Radiating out from what feels like his right side. His right arm? Radiating out to his shoulder, his chest, his neck, his back. “Urgh,” he groans.

“Naruto!” It’s only then does he notice Hinata sitting in the far corner of the room. “You’re finally awake. How are you feeling?” she asks, already at his bedside before he can reply.

“I’m... sore.” He winces. But he tries to flash his wife a reassuring smile. “How do I look?” he asks, a cautious expression on his face.

“You look... better. The doctors really cleaned you up.” Naruto senses she is trying to placate him. She is nervous. Figuring the truth must be horrendous, Naruto holds his breath before glancing at his right side and being reminded of what is missing.

What is left of his arm is entirely covered in white bandages, freshly changed. The amputation was made right above the elbow, leaving nothing but a rounded stump. To see it is surreal, but Naruto doesn’t quite find in himself the horror that Hinata seemed to have been bracing for. The shock of the incident feels, surprisingly, more like a fading memory than a vivid and horrific trauma. Or maybe he is just doing whatever it takes to push the weight of it out of his mind. A hospital is hardly the place for a breakdown.

Naruto recalls the strange cracking sound that echoed throughout the construction site as the section of the structure he was working on buckled and collapsed. He remembers reacting just a second too slowly as the concrete smashed down around him, making contact with his arm and slamming him to the ground. Ears ringing, heart pounding, the world spinning. And then the pain. A horrendous pain, searing through him like a lightning strike. In that brief moment before he lost consciousness, Naruto felt like a character in a horror film, the one who endures all kinds of hell to survive but still ends up bloodied and in pieces by the end.

Consciousness returned again sometime between the ambulance and the hospital bed but was lost again soon after that. He recalls voices that sounded like whispers, and how he was somehow able to piece the mumbled words together enough to infer his injury was very serious and that surgical removal was a necessity. The arm, he learns upon waking up the first time after the operation, had been almost entirely crushed. Maybe a quarter of it was spared. The rest was shattered bones, torn ligaments, and lots of blood. There are photos, apparently. For the doctors? For legal purposes? Naruto doesn’t want to see them. His imagination is more than enough.

When he tries to piece together some kind of feeling about all this, all he gets is static. An eerie silence in his head, a concerning emptiness in his chest, and nausea from all the medicine. Right now he just wants to go home. He grimaces as he uses his good arm to prop himself up. He instantly regrets it and shouts out loud when the pain suddenly intensifies.

“Don’t push yourself,” Hinata tells him. “The doctor said you can be released in a few days, as long as you are not experiencing any complications.”

Naruto lays back down slowly and laughs, a reaction which might strike Hinata as incredibly odd if she hadn’t known him and been exposed to his quirks for ten years. “I’ll do my best to stay simple,” he tells her. The accident has amputated his arm and replaced it with apathy. It has not, however, removed his awful sense of humor that he uses to cover this feeling up, and at least that’s something.

 

\- - - - -

 

Naruto’s stay at the hospital is a blur of medical personnel, in and out, changing his bandages, gauging the wound’s healing. On day five, they measure him for a prosthesis, should he choose to use one.  

On day seven, Hinata picks naruto up from the hospital. As soon as they get home, their babysitter begins fussing over him. “You poor thing, whatever will you do now?” she asks. She blubbers on and on until Hinata suggests that Naruto needs his rest. Naruto wonders why this woman feels for him more than he himself does.

Boruto is dozing in the other room, comfortably nestled up with a pillow on the couch, his dirty blond hair quite untamed. His son looks so peaceful. Naruto hates to wake him. But he misses feeling like a dad. Being cared for by nurses at the hospital felt wrong. A parent thrives off of giving, not receiving. And besides, no one had ever doted on him before, not since he was too young to remember.

Naruto gently shakes Boruto’s shoulder. “I’m home,” he whispers.

Boruto’s eyes shoot open immediately, as if he had been expecting him. “Oh good!,” he exclaims, “I’ve been so bored!” He throws his arms around his dad, causing Naruto to wince in pain.

“Ow.”

“Careful sweetie,” Hinata warns. “Your dad had to get an operation and it’s still healing.”

“Sorry!” He tries to whisper, but loud by nature, the effort is in vain. “When will you be able to play basketball with me?”

“Probably not for a while buddy, sorry about that. I went and got myself into trouble at work.” He grins sheepishly. Probably not ever, he realizes, reality slowly setting in.

Only then does Boruto seem to notice the missing limb. No one had told him the details of what happened. Hinata made their sitter promise to keep quiet because Naruto preferred to show rather than tell. No need to cause the boy any unnecessary anxiety beforehand. Granted, Boruto suddenly seeing his dad minus one arm could have given him something much worse than anxiety, but Naruto’s gut told him it was better to break the news this way.

Boruto’s eyes grow wide at the bandages and he goes to touch what remains of the right arm, but stops himself, remembering about the pain. “Dad... you don’t have two arms anymore.” This is the first time this truth seems real. Naruto begins to count the things he will no longer be able to do with his son.

He rests his only hand on his Boruto’s head lovingly, and tells himself that no, he does not feel like crying.

“I’ll be okay,” he insists. “You’ll find your dad is just as cool and capable with one arm as he was with two.” Naruto knows Boruto responds best to change when it is presented to him as nonchalantly as possible. It’s true of most kids; if you don’t make it a big deal, they won’t either. And Boruto, now reassured that his dad is still his dad, soon loses interest and heads outside to join some neighborhood kids in a game.

Naruto longs to be able to shake this off just as easily. But now that he’s home, the pain burrows itself in deep, and this time it’s not just physical. That night, after Hinata is already in bed, he lays down on the couch and turns on tv, scrolling through the channels until he lands on a basketball game he doesn’t feel like watching. When the tears come, Naruto is powerless to stop them.

 

\- - - - -

 

Six weeks and several “get well soon dad” cards later, Naruto is healed enough to be officially out of the recovery stage, the threat of infection no longer a concern. He sits in the waiting room of the specialist who is to fit him with his first ever prosthetic. After much deliberation and advice from his doctor, Naruto decided to go with the hook, as opposed to a prehensor or an artificial hand. The hook would be lighter, and allow him more versatility than a prehensor, which is bulkier and unable to handle smaller objects. It is also significantly cheaper than an artificial hand. Naruto couldn’t care less about the aesthetic value, and wasn’t trying to live life in denial of his disability. No use pretending he still had a hand of flesh and blood on his right side. Naruto’s therapist (which Hinata insisted he see, despite his protests) was certain any attempt to revert to life before the injury would only worsen his depression. And besides all that, Naruto secretly thought those hooks looked pretty cool.

He glances around the room, his leg bouncing up and down erratically. Almost immediately, he catches the eyes of the only other person there. Coincidentally, it’s another man missing an arm, and the amputation looks to extend up about as far as Naruto’s. But it’s the left one instead of the right. The man looks to be glaring at him, for god knows what reason, which unfortunately only makes Naruto’s fidgeting worse. He wishes he brought some paper to scribble on. He is always doodling, although less so these days without his his dominant arm. Luckily he is somewhat ambidextrous and is able to work a pen or pencil in his left hand if he needs to, but it isn’t the same.

Finally the doctor is ready for him. She is a woman who looks about Naruto’s age. Her hair is stylish, cut short and tapering off smartly around her ears and at the nape of her neck. Longer bangs sweep down in front, off to one side of her face. Before Naruto has time to register anything else about her, she gasps. He instinctively reaches for his hair. Does he look that awful? He hadn’t brushed his hair today, but it still looks okay right? Unless it’s his outfit?

“Naruto… ” she says, apparently in shock.

Okay, he can admit it, he basically just rolled out of bed without even glancing in the mirror before leaving. But so what? Who was this doctor to care what he looked liked?

"Naruto... Naruto, it’s _ you!  _ I can’t believe it!”

Why was she acting like she knew him? Nobody knew him, not here. Not since he’d moved to Seattle. “Huh? Who are you?” he asks.

Her eyes widen. In disbelief? No, more like amusement. Who... ?

“Naruto,” the doctor laughs. “It’s me. Sakura, from high school.”

Holy shit. Is this really... ? But she looks so different. He gapes at her, trying to make the connection.

“You idiot!” Her laugh fills the small room.

That does it. He can’t deny it now, it really is his old friend standing with him in this room.

“Sorry,” she says, “I should be more professional.”

“N… no! No! It’s okay! Sakura, it’s so good to see you!” Naruto doesn’t realize how true those words are until he says them. “You look so different, I didn’t even recognize you!” He’s practically gawking, but he can’t help it.

“Let me guess, you imagined an adult me would still have pink hair and crooked bangs that I cut myself?”

Yes. “No, of course not! It’s just been a while, that’s all.”

“It has, hasn’t it?”

“I can’t believe it. Last time I saw you we were still just kids, yeah?”

Sakura laughs again. “And now I’m your prosthetist.”

“I can’t believe this, this is wild!”

“I can’t believe... your arm. I... can’t believe it.”

Oh yeah, his arm. The reason he’s here in the first place. “I kind of had an accident at work.” He suddenly feels very small.

Sakura’s expression turns serious, finally pulling herself back into doctor mode. “Yes,” she says, frowning. “I read your information. Sounds like you’ve been through a lot.”

“Yeah,” Naruto says, still dumbstruck by the fact that Sakura is a doctor, his doctor. A real adult, just like he is, with a job, and possibly even a life. There is silence for a moment and Naruto wonders if Sakura is being flooded with memories like he is. They haven’t seen each other in over ten years. “Sakura... it really is you.”

Sakura purses her lips, as if nearly overcome by some emotion, but keeps focus. “Yes, it’s me, in the flesh. Now how about this prosthesis, huh? You’re absolutely certain this is the one you want?” She gestures toward the table where a very well-crafted piece of carbon and plaster lays waiting.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Naruto says. Sensing the shift in her tone, he intends to drop the sentimentality until she picks it back up. “It’s cool, right!?” He grins, forcing other feelings to remain hiding. “I’m going to be such a badass now.”

Sakura smiles at this, and Naruto relaxes. He can usually break any tensions in a room with a smile and some mindless chatter. “I can’t wait to show Boruto!” He doesn’t mean to tell her like this; it just slips out. But Sakura, for her part, seems committed to finishing her job before letting any other emotion slip into her face or her voice.

“Well let’s get you hooked up then.”

After she walks him through how to take it off, put it back on, clean it, and care for it, Naruto‘s head is buzzing. “I should have written this down,” he mutters.

“You can call me if you ever have any questions,” Sakura says, reassuring. She hands him her business card. “Actually, please do call,” she says. “If only to catch up with your old friend.” She smiles warmly and Naruto flashes her a lopsided grin in return, a gesture so instinctual he is only vaguely aware of doing it.

“You can count on it!” he says. But deep down, he is sure she does not want to know the kind of person he has become, or what kind of mediocre life he is carving for himself.

The man with the amputated left arm is still in the waiting room when Naruto goes to leave. Of course. Sakura is the only doctor in today. The man is still glaring at him. What is this guy’s problem anyways?

A smooth, level voice catches him off guard. “Nice hook,” the man says. Naruto clenches his fist and grits his teeth at the tone but ultimately determines he must just have a dry sense of humor.  

“It’s cool, yeah?” he says, sticking it in the man’s face and lifting his chin proudly. “I look like some kind of hero.” He isn’t used to the new arm yet and his movements are clumsy. He nearly whacks the man on the head.  

“Watch it.” The man jerks away from Naruto. “You just look like a guy with only one good arm.”

“Yeah, and your point is?”

“Point is you look like an idiot.”

Naruto can definitely fight this man. They are both down an arm, so it wouldn’t even be an unfair fight.

“Sasuke Uchiha?” the nurse calls.

The man stands and silently follows the nurse into the next room, nodding smugly in Naruto’s direction. Naruto notices he is kind of tall, but is confident he could still take him in a fight. There is no reason for him to stick around, but he plops back down in one of the chairs anyways. He isn’t pouting. Okay maybe he is, just a little. Finally, he meets a guy with the same disability as him and of course he ends up being a total ass.

If he tries to tell his therapist that he met someone with similar baggage but neglected to reach out due to first impressions, Naruto knows he will be met with disapproval. Naruto also knows that the storm swirling in his stomach, the flood pressing down on his chest, is not a direct result of his injury. There is much more to it. But his therapist is convinced an expanding social network of "people like him" will help. And well, it couldn’t hurt to try. Naruto is willing to try anything that might give him the will to get out of bed each day. And the next bus home is probably still several minutes away, anyways, so he might as well wait around. Maybe this guy is just a little rough around the edges, Naruto reasons.

Naruto can’t tell if the man is surprised to see him still sitting there when he walks back out. His face is entirely impassive. His prosthetic is one of those really realistic artificial hands. Naruto wonders how he afforded the luxury until remembering that a lot of guys above the age of 25 are financially successful. Unlike him. Well, either way it looks kind of stupid, he reassures himself.

“Hey,” Naruto says quickly, before the man has a chance to escape. The man turns his head to look at Naruto, his eyes dark not quite as unfriendly as Naruto was afraid they’d be. “Ah... you’re Sasuke right? I’m Naruto.”

Sasuke stops and blinks slowly as if very confused, but he doesn’t walk past Naruto. “I have to catch my bus, but I was hoping we could exchange numbers, maybe have a night out, you know?” Naruto realizes it has been months, if not longer, since he’s last spent recreational time with anyone around his own age besides Hinata. It might be kind of fun.

“Sure,” Sasuke replied simply. His voice is monotone, but Naruto swears he sees the tiniest of smiles cross his face, despite his obvious confusion, as they exchange numbers. He can’t really read this man at all. He hopes this impulsive decision is a good one. The walls of his life are closing in on him fast and he doesn’t know how much longer he can push back with his force alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been avoiding posting the first chapter for a long time but finally here it is. I've been working very hard on this story, I hope I can bring you more chapters soon and that y'all will enjoy them.
> 
> I did my best to research the process of recieving a prosthetic limb and the options available for someone in Naruto's situation. Apologies if my description isn't entirely accurate, but I swear I tried.


	2. as the free-fall advances, i'm the moron who dances

Two weeks after receiving his prosthetic, Naruto receives the bill. This on top of the hospital bills is overwhelming. And that isn’t even counting the cost of the physical therapist who is teaching him how to make the best use of the new arm. Insurance only covers so much. And Naruto has never had much savings to fall back on. He is used to it, he has always known what it’s like to struggle. But these costs are accumulating because of him, and that’s what makes them so hard to swallow. 

That night, while settling in for a Star Wars marathon with Boruto, Naruto reluctantly calls up Hinata, who is spending the night in Austin, Texas before boarding a flight headed for Orlando. He knows that there’s no good reason for him to feel guilty, but he can’t shake the feeling while on the phone with her.

“I’m not really sure what to do. We can’t afford this, there’s just no way, especially with me being out of work. Worker’s comp is not enough to get us through this, and we haven’t even seen that money yet.” Never comfortable putting any weight on another’s shoulders, Naruto’s jaw clenches as he tries not to let his stress seep into his tone. Two months without work is driving him mad in the worst way. He should be doing  _ something _ .

“You should call your employer,” Hinata says. “You should send them the bills and request compensation. It was their fault, after all. They should be paying for this.”

Naruto knows that this is the next logical step, and probably something he should have done sooner, but finds himself faltering. He has never demanded anything for himself before. For his family, absolutely. For his friends, of course, if he had any. But for himself? It feels wrong somehow. But he tells Hinata yes, okay, of course he can do that. He should do that. He doesn’t tell her how strange this feels. He wouldn’t even know how to describe it.

When he hangs up, Naruto gets the distinct feeling that he was talking to a relative he sees once or twice a year rather than his wife. He blames it on his own bad attitude, his own inattentiveness to romance. He has forgotten what trying even feels like. Naruto and Hinata have been together for about ten years now. Their connection was fast, but the momentum sputtered out quickly. Then Hinata got pregnant, and there was never any time to think about the rest. Both of them valued loyalty and obligation, and Naruto was convinced that this is the way things were meant to be. So they married quietly and began a life together, and told each other it was enough.

Hinata is all Naruto has since he dropped out and fled his childhood to start over in Seattle. They never really fight, and that must be a good thing. But the rough patches, the money woes, they are never balanced out with the warm and fuzzy feelings Naruto is hardly aware he’s even missing. Hinata is the person Naruto has a life and a child with, she is strung through him like the beads on the necklace that Naruto’s birth mother wears in his only photo of her. They are tied together, by duty or coincidence. 

Despite this, conversations are about Boruto or money troubles. Neither of them initiate any kind of intimacy. And the times Hinata is away at work feel much the same as the times she is at home. But Naruto doesn’t like to dwell.

Boruto, much to the relief of them both, is not aware of a thing, and is always happiest when both of them are home together with him. “Dad, when is mom coming home?” he asks. His eyes droop, and he lays his head on Naruto’s lap. The boy sighs contentedly and Naruto feels the familiar tightness in his chest that he is blessed enough to feel as a parent almost every day.

“Not for four or five more days,” Naruto tells him. He runs his fingers through the boy’s hair and kisses him softly behind one ear.

“Dad!” he exclaims sleepily, incensed at this embarrassing display of parental affection. “I’m 8 years old!”

“Shh, you!” Naruto says, ruffling his hair. The dissatisfied feeling deep in Naruto’s gut that just won’t leave him be is temporarily overshadowed by the way his son pulls at his heartstrings.

 

\- - - - -

 

“What do you mean you can’t help me? You can’t be serious? Are you serious?” Naruto pulls at his hair and huffs into the phone. “But it’s your fault! I wouldn’t be home right now if it wasn’t for - No I do not want to give him a call. I’ve already made 10 calls today!” He slams his fist on the kitchen counter. “It was  _ your  _ faulty materials,” he growls. “No - you know what - no, I said no. This is outrageous.” He throws the phone down in frustration, thankful no one is around to see him lose his cool like this. They might comfort him, and he didn’t want that.

Naruto’s employer says their hands are tied. That he is already going to receive workers comp and that there’s nothing else they can do for him. That there is no way to  _ prove _ what caused the accident. Naruto has half a mind to give the bigwigs a personal visit and test out his left handed swing, but that desire is nothing more than an embarrassing remnant of his rough and tumble childhood. 

He slumps into a chair. This is exactly why he doesn’t stand up for himself anymore. It ends in disappointment; in him feeling powerless. What can he possibly do? Boruto’s face flashes in his head and his stomach flips fearfully. How can he support his son if he can’t even pay his bills? 

Things are rough enough as it is. Boruto is frustrated that Naruto isn’t able to do the same things he used to, and confused as to why he can’t even get money for snacks at school anymore. To top it off, Boruto feels dejected because Hinata has to pick up even more hours at work, so her periods of time at home are fewer and farther between. They’ve always been poor, but never like this. Never this dangerously so.

Naruto wonders if he can still return the prosthetic. He’d rather have no right arm at all than have Boruto lacking any of the things he always wanted his kid to have. He could call Sakura, maybe get this whole process reversed. He finds her card quickly dials the number.

“Good afternoon, Doctor Haruna speaking.”

“Hey uh.. It’s me. Naruto.” He hears her snicker into the phone, clearly amused that Naruto doesn’t have the social script for ‘talking to an old friend who is now your doctor.’

“Naruto, it’s good to hear from you so soon.”

“Oh yeah?” He’s short with her, not in the mood for banter.

“What is it?” she asks, concerned by his tone.

“Is there any way to uh, return this prosthetic somehow? Like if I don’t want it anymore?”

“Is there a problem with the mechanics? I can take a look at it for you. Or I can show you some other options-”

“No, it’s not that. I just… money's really tight right now. I have all these medical bills, crappy insurance won’t cover nearly enough, and my company is claiming no fault.” The few small seconds of silence that follow are too much to bear. “Actually never mind, forget I said anything,” he amends. “Bye.”

“No Naruto, wait a minute.” Naruto silently keeps the phone at his ear and Sakura rushes to get her words out. “I I think I might know a way to help you. Can I get back to you?”

The thought of his old friend whom he had so selfishly abandoned years ago taking time out of her busy schedule to help him out gives Naruto an ugly feeling. But he doesn’t know how to say no to Sakura, he never has. “Yeah, fine,” he says, defeated.

“Just wait and see,” Sakura says.

Naruto hangs up and wanders aimlessly into his bedroom. He looks in his mirror, and doesn’t recognize the man who stares back at him. He is surprised Sakura seems to. And it has little to do with the prosthetic arm, no matter what his therapist insists. No, there is something missing on the inside. 

To an outsider looking in, it might  _ seem  _ that Naruto’s change in demeanor is a result of his injury. But the disconnect Naruto feels from the time he wakes up to the time he goes to sleep has been present for much longer. It had always been his job that kept Naruto distracted enough that he wouldn’t have to think about these things. But now, there is nothing but an empty house and whatever is on tv. The only thing that grounds him at all these days is Boruto. And even he is hard to think about, his stability and future so dependant on money Naruto does not have. He feels like a deadbeat dad failing his son.

Sighing, he dials Hinata’s number and tells her the request for compensation by his employer will not end up going anywhere. The conversation is tense and filled with long silences. Neither of them know what to do. Hinata offers to contact her parents and see if they’d be willing to help, but Naruto adamantly refuses. Hinata’s family cut her off years ago for not following the path they wanted her to, and the last thing Naruto wants is for them to get an opportunity to guilt and blackmail her. 

Hinata says she’ll do some brainstorming, Naruto says nothing at all. He hangs up the phone, embarrassed by what he sees as a personal failing. He should be able to provide for his family. He shouldn’t need help.

 

\- - - - -

 

Naruto tucks Boruto into bed every night without fail and kisses his forehead. He always protests, but Naruto tells him it’s for good luck. Naruto never wants to leave the room. He hates to shut the door. Naruto knows it’s silly, but it feels like abandonment to him.

 

\- - - - -

 

It’s too early to be tired, and there is nothing on tv, so Naruto lays on the couch and fiddles with his phone. It’s just an old flip phone, nothing fancy. He likes the sound it makes when he flips it open and shut repeatedly. It interrupts the depressing silence. Suddenly he remembers; he still has that man’s number. It would be weird to get his number and never contact him, right? He acts on impulse and sends the text.

“Hey, it’s Naruto, the guy with a hook for an arm.”

The reply is surprisingly fast. “How could I forget,” it reads.

Naruto, surprised to actually get a response, wracks his brain to think of some purpose for contacting this guy. There’s a hockey game next Friday that Naruto wants to go to. He invites Sasuke because, well, why not?

“Sure” is the immediate reply.

 

\- - - - -

 

Hinata has a couple days to spend at home before her next trip takes her out of the country, so she has no problem with Naruto taking a dad break and going out this particular Friday. Boruto wants to spend some quality time with her anyways. He calls her every day she is away to tell her he misses her. He may be growing out of physical displays of affection, but is still young enough to love his parents without embarrassment.  

“Dad, when will you be home?”

“The game only lasts a couple of hours, but it might be after your bedtime.”

“I’m not going to bed tonight,” Boruto says indignantly. “Mom and I are going to make cupcakes.”

“Well don’t get too crazy!” He winks and the boy grins up at him.

“I’ll frost some in orange, and some in yellow. Your favorite color and mine!” Boruto skips around the kitchen table excitedly and Naruto laughs, wishing he still had that kind of energy.

“Naruto, be safe okay?” Hinata is searching the kitchen for the mixer and doesn't glance up at him.

“Yeah, I will.” He is always safe, but never secure.

It’s a little chilly for early May. Naruto is wearing his favorite hoodie, a comfortable and warm eyesore with holes in it. Sasuke gives him an incredulous onceover as Naruto walks up to him, waving. The bus was, of course, late. Embarrassing. 

“Hey you... look like an orange." Sasuke says, and it sounds accusatory. 

Naruto scowls. “Orange is a good color. I look good in orange.” Sasuke begrudgingly admits that much. “Is that any way to greet someone you barely know?” Naruto asks. He wonders why he ever reached out to this guy, of all people.

“No, but I’m doing a lot of things I wouldn’t normally do.” Sasuke gestures towards the arena.

“Oh, are you not a sports guy?”

“Not at all.”

“That’s fair. Nice of you to come out anyways, I guess.” Naruto’s voices loses its edge. If Sasuke is going out of his way to do something he doesn’t have an interest in, maybe he should try not to be so quick to judge him. “We’re watching the Seattle Thunderbirds,” he explains. “They’re a junior hockey league, so not a lot of people know about them, but I think they’re really fun to watch. I like a team that’s a little rough around the edges, you know?”

Sasuke says he doesn’t know, but he doesn’t care either. At this point, he explains, he just needs a good distraction from everyday life. Despite the vagueness of what Sasuke says, Naruto finds that his words really resonate with him, and decides that this may have been a good idea after all. They both have a motive; they both need to escape for a little while. 

Naruto chatters away throughout the game, explaining everything that’s happening even though Sasuke doesn’t especially care. Sasuke tells Naruto it’s relieving to spend time with someone who doesn’t know who he is or what he’s been through. Of course, Sasuke’s ambivalence just makes Naruto curious, and he wants to drag the evening out to learn more. 

“I’m not really ready to go home yet,” Naruto says truthfully when the game ends and they follow the small crowd of people filtering onto the Seattle streets. “I feel like we skipped right past basic introductions. I guess I was talking your ear off.”

“It’s okay. I can’t say I was really listening, but your constant babbling is just the kind of distraction I needed tonight.”

Naruto frowns, unable to decipher whether this is sarcasm or just blunt honesty. “You know, you’re pretty rude. I’m trying my best here.”

Sasuke made a noise that almost sounded like laughter. 

“Okay what the hell is so funny?"

“You’re the first person to ever call me out on that.” 

“I don’t know if I believe that.”

Sasuke gestures at his prosthetic. “Most people take one look at this and start talking to me like I’m a lost puppy they want to take home.”

“Well, not me. We’ve got the same problem,” Naruto says, pointing at his own prosthetic. “So if you’re gonna act like an ass, I’m gonna make sure you hear about it.” 

“Thanks,” Sasuke says. “I mean it,” he adds when Naruto scowls at him. “Most people take one look at me and all they can feel is pity. It’s disgusting. And worse when they actually know me.”

“You hate that too, yeah?” Naruto sticks his hand into the pocket of his hoodie and pulls out the lighter he is not supposed to have, and a single cigarette he has been saving. Something about Sasuke’s bluntness makes his own feelings tumble out easily. 

“I’m so tired of people trying to make me feel better,” Naruto tells him.  He sticks the cigarette in his mouth and lights it, inhaling deeply. He needs this right now. He briefly worries if Sasuke is the obnoxious type who’d have something to say about his bad habit, but Sasuke remains silent, staring up at the sky. They end up stationary on the sidewalk, people brushing past them. The clouds are thin tonight, and you can almost see some stars.

“It’s horrendous,” Sasuke admits. “It’s turned me into a shut-in.” 

“Me too. I’m always at home. I rarely ever go out. I mean, it’s not  _ just  _ because of that. I have to take care of my kid while my wife works extra hours and I can’t go back to work anyways so... uh... I don’t want to ramble again.”

“It’s fine. What do you do for a job?”

“I’m - well I  _ was  _ a construction worker. That’s how I had the accident. What about you?”

“My job is boring and not related to my missing arm. I was born without a functioning left arm.”

“Illness?” Naruto asks, genuinely interested.

“Don’t start, please. There’s a genetic disorder that runs in my family, called Holt-Oram Syndrome. It’s pretty rare. Because of it, I was born with some bones in my left arm missing. I’ve been wearing a prosthetic since I was young. That’s all.”

“I won’t pity you,” Naruto says honestly. “I have enough of my own problems to worry about.”

As quickly as Sasuke opens up to Naruto, he decides he is done sharing. “Well, I’m tired and my car’s right down this way so I’m going to get going. See you.” 

“See ya! I’ll probably text you again when I’ve had enough of my lousy apartment, yeah?”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

Sasuke sounds sarcastic but Naruto detects something genuine in his tone. Despite his less than friendly demeanor, Naruto finds himself thinking well of Sasuke, and makes a promise to try and ignore his rough edges. He had a nice time tonight. He flips open his phone to check the time. It’s already 11:30, and Boruto is in bed by the time Naruto gets home.

 

\- - - - -

 

Naruto does text Sasuke again, and they begin hanging out regularly. It becomes somewhat of an unspoken rule that Naruto has at least one night out every time Hinata is home. It works well for both of them. Naruto needs some time away from his problems, Hinata wants to spend more time with Boruto, and neither of them feel like spending time together. Naruto knows the time he spends with Sasuke is a way to avoid thinking about his life falling apart and leaving him without a clear sense of himself. But he stubbornly continues. Despite everything, he really enjoys this time.

Sasuke isn’t much of a talker, especially about himself. This never changes, even as they become good friends. But he is a soothing presence in Naruto’s life. They go out to sporting events, or to bars, or even just to dinner, and Naruto had no problem talking his ear off. Sasuke has no problem being a listener, even if it does sometimes give him a headache. Naruto is pretty sure Sasuke is just as glad to have a distraction as Naruto is.

Naruto’s favorite topic is Boruto, and Sasuke quickly learns everything there is to know about the boy. Naruto’s face lights up every time he speaks of him, in a way it never does when talking about Hinata, his old job, sports, or anything else.

“I can’t even imagine having kids,” Sasuke says one night as they were having a drink at a local brewery (Sasuke’s treat, because Naruto doesn’t have the money for the kinds of places Sasuke likes to be seen in).

“Yeah? It’s not an easy thing to do. But it’s really a blessing. It’s the only thing that keeps me grounded anymore,” he admits, taking a sip of his beer. “The best part is watching them become who they are, you know? I don’t even know who I am, and they’re still learning. It feels almost... reassuring, ya know?

“I know who I am. I’m the kind of guy who’d be bad with kids.”

Naruto frowns. “Hmm yeah, maybe you’re right. You’re not exactly a friendly guy.”

“Yeah,” he replies. “That’s what all my exes said too.”

“Sorry if I hit a nerve.”

“I really don’t care. I broke up with my last ex because he wouldn’t stop pitying me and telling me I needed to ‘access my real feelings.’ What he didn’t care to know was my actual, real feelings of frustration and annoyance every time he tried to tell me what I was feeling.”

“I’m sorry.” Naruto tries to act casual, as if his friend  _ hadn’t  _ just come out to him. Sasuke isn’t the type of guy to want a big fuss made over anything about him. Naruto guesses he must be pretty comfortable with liking men if he is able to discuss it so offhandedly.

“Don’t, Naruto,” Sasuke warns. “I don’t need pity. It doesn’t bother me. I only brought him up because he was  _ relentless  _ about wanting kids. So we were never going to last anyways.”

Naruto nods. “I understand. It’s not for everyone. I always wanted to be a dad but, the way it happened, meeting Hinata and getting married and all, I didn’t plan it to go exactly like that. I was still young. But, that’s the way it goes. And that’s the way families are made, yeah?”

“Hmm, yeah.”

“What are you thinking about? You’re always staring off somewhere.”

“You kind of remind me of him.”

“Of who? Your ex?” he asks incredulously.

“Yeah. A little. He was always so... vibrant. You’re not quite as pushy as he was though, as hard as that is to believe.”

“Vibrant huh?” Naruto grins, ignoring the insult. “I  _ am  _ quite a presence, yeah?”

Sasuke rolls his eyes, likely in response to how embarrassing Naruto is when he gets tipsy. “Anyways,” he continues, “I meant more in terms of physical appearance. You kind of look like him. Your complexion, the bright eyes, the stupid grin, the messy hair and all.”

“My hair isn’t messy. It’s stylish.”

 

“Sure,” Sasuke says, dripping with sarcasm. “He could never have pulled off that shocking blonde though. It works for you.” Sasuke was actually looking at him now, and Naruto suddenly feels very self-conscious. He doesn’t know why. He’s never thought much about his appearance, as his dirty old Adidas sneakers and thrift store jackets make clear. He nervously runs his hand through his disheveled hair and takes another drink. Sasuke is still looking at him.  __ He becomes fixated on Sasuke’s gaze, but unable to read him.

“I think you’ve had enough,” Sasuke says. “Didn’t you say Hinata wouldn’t be happy if you came home drunk? Not that I care,” he adds. “I’m just saying.”

Naruto finally snaps out of it. “Yeah I know, I know. You idiot. You’re the one who wanted to drink tonight.”

“You’re the one with the family at home.”

“I know, I know already,” Naruto says irritably. “Let’s just go then.”

The entire bus ride home Naruto can’t figure out why he feels so incredibly flustered, he just knows it definitely has something to do with the way his head is spinning. He must have drank too much.

 

\- - - - -

 

There are exactly two reasons why Naruto drags himself out of bed to face the balmy summer weather and the disappointments of adulthood. When he looks in the mirror he sees one reflected in his blonde hair and brown skin, and the other in the complex mechanics of his right arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is kind of dull. But the building blocks have got to go somewhere, better to get them laid down early.


	3. but let's talk about you for a minute, with the vomit in your gullet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear friend Max was absolutely essential to me getting this chapter posted. They worked tirelessly helping me edit and enhance this chapter and I'm extremely grateful. This one's a bit of a long one. For me, anyways. I usually average around 3,000 words a chapter.
> 
> UPDATE: I touched up some stuff, made it sound better, and improved the continuity a little.

Sasuke likes the cold feel of the metal in his hand. He moves his index finger gently over the engraving. He slips the ring on his finger. For all intents and purposes, the ring could be his. The same school, because they grew up in the same house; the same class colors, because they rotated out every four years and Sasuke entered high school the summer following his brother’s graduation.

Everything is the same but the name. The name, that was one thing he could never claim, no matter how much he tried. He yanks the ring off and slams it on his bedside table. There is simply no way to run from this reality. There is no reason for him to try. There is no one left to impress.

He finds his phone wedged between his bed and the wall and opens Naruto has texted him good morning. Again. He’s been doing that a lot lately. Sasuke hates the feeling of comfort that washes over him as he thinks about it; it is not worth the risk, but he can’t seem to stop himself. It’s not even noon, but he needs a drink.

 

\- - - - -

 

Naruto squints at his computer. The words are all blurring together. This is the fifth cover letter he’s written today, and it’s hardly ten o’clock. He really is not cut out for this shit. A cover letter is supposed to be the first impression for a potential employer. But unfortunately, formal writing is Naruto’s weak point. He doesn’t have the attention span necessary to read over each sentence for grammatical mistakes or poor phrasing.

Hinata tells him he shouldn’t write the same way he speaks, but casual speech comes easiest to him and he can’t seem to get away from it. Those two years he spent in technical school didn’t help him improve his writing. Neither did his high school English classes, where the teachers chalked him up to be a problem student with no potential.

But he can’t give up; he has to find a new job. He has put it off long enough already and feels incredibly guilty for doing so. Physical therapy now completed, there’s no good reason for him to be lounging at home, especially not when he has Boruto to worry about. However heavy Naruto feels, it’s no excuse not to put in the effort. He makes sure to tell himself this every day.

It’s not that Naruto doesn’t enjoy the role of stay-at-home-dad. He loves the extra time with Boruto, of course, and indulging in the responsibilities of parenthood that have always come naturally for him. If it was feasible, Naruto would do this until the day Boruto moved out.

But deep down Naruto knows that this explanation for his reluctance to look for work is not sufficient. Unmotivated and underwhelmed by every possible career option, Naruto prefers to spend his days busying himself with chores and odd jobs than face reality. What job could he even get with his disability? Construction work is pretty much out of the question, and that was all he ever had; the only thing he used to identify himself outside of his role as a father.

Now, at the age of 28, Naruto decides he has missed the deadline for finding a passion. If construction work is out, any mundane job is in. Thus, here he sits in front of his computer on this dreary morning in September, applying to anywhere that’s hiring.

A gentle rain rolls down the windows of the third floor apartment and the soothing sound makes Naruto long for the bed that Boruto had made sure he wouldn’t get to sleep in past eight o’clock. Always full of energy, Boruto was adamant that today was a perfect day to take his dad to the park to play soccer.

“Dad, wake up! I want to show you my kick!” his son had said, gap toothed grin and all. When Naruto opened his eyes, the boy was practically on top of him, jumping on and off the bed eagerly. Apparently, the kids were doing a soccer unit in school, and it seemed to be the only thing on Boruto’s mind.

“If you do your homework right now, we can go to the park later.”

“Ugh, you  _ always  _ say that.” The boy crossed his arms and pouted.

“That’s because you’d never do it otherwise,” Naruto had said, slowly dragging himself out of the warm bed. “We don’t want you to fall behind.”

“School is stupid anyways,” Boruto complained. “The teachers are always getting mad at me.”

“Well, maybe they wouldn’t be if you didn’t act out in class so often.” Naruto had tried to sound stern. But he felt empathy for his son, who reminded him so much of himself when he was in school. The droning of the teachers never made a lot of sense to him. And class felt so long he would be dying to move around, even just a little. That’s why he always loved Phys Ed, and he knows Boruto feels the same.

“It’s not fair. Mrs. Burns tells me to sit still and I try to, but I can’t follow her lessons. And she won’t answer my questions until after class.”

Naruto had bent down so he was at eye level with his son and flashed him a sympathetic smile. “I know, bud. Listen, if you can sit and do homework this morning, your dad will sit and do his work, too. And then we can go to the park. I promise. Okay?”

“M’kay,” he hummed, smiling back.

“Good.” Naruto ruffled the boy’s hair, the agreement now official. Naruto could never understand why some parents have such difficulty reasoning with their kids. Sure kids can be stubborn and they lack the experience of an adult, but the best way to reach them is always to level with them.

Of course, it isn’t as easy as shaking hands and getting to work. Boruto has to take breaks constantly; the kid just can’t keep still. Every ten to fifteen minutes he gets up and jogs around the kitchen table. He doodles all over his assignments.

Naruto can’t even blame him. The apartment is too quiet and his thoughts are too loud. But he taps his foot, starts humming a tune whose origin he can’t quite recall, and keeps going. Naruto wonders what on earth would motivate him if not for Boruto, his pride and joy. He really would do anything for that boy.

That includes catching a bus to the nearest park so he and Boruto can kick around a soccer ball in the rain and the mud for over two hours. Naruto is breathing heavily by the time they catch the bus back, cursing himself for getting so out of shape. But Boruto is all smiles, and that is all that matters to Naruto.

 

\- - - - - 

 

Much to Naruto’s surprise, Hinata is waiting for them when they get home. She is still dressed in the formal black and white attire required for flight attendants, and her long black hair is tied back neatly in a bun on the top of her head.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting this!” Naruto says cheerily. Boruto is already in her arms, shouting excitedly.

“Mom, Mom! You’re home! You should have seen it, I scored so many goals today!”

Hinata smiles and rubs the boy’s head. “You’re a mess,” she says. “Get yourself into the bath.”

The boy sighs dramatically. “ _ Okay _ ,” he whines, and Naruto is amused by the attitude the eight-year-old boy is developing.

“How are you?” Naruto asks Hinata once the boy has stomped away and he hears the water start running in the tub. “I thought you wouldn’t be home until Monday.”

“I got off early. The flight I was supposed to get on got cancelled.”

“Oh well, I’m glad you’re home.” The words come out of Naruto’s mouth, but they don’t feel true. If anything, he feels indifference. Hinata smiles and hugs him, but it feels tense. Naruto wonders if she is more in tune with him than he thinks. Or maybe his bad attitude is just contagious.

“I was talking to some of my coworkers the other day,” Hinata tells him, sitting down at the kitchen table. “They told me we should try and hire a lawyer.”

“A lawyer?” Naruto scrunches up his face at the ridiculous notion. “How can we hire a lawyer? We don’t have the money for a lawyer. We don’t even have the money for the expenses we have now.” Hinata looks at Naruto like she wants him to sit at the table, but he just keeps pacing instead.

“I know, Naruto,” she continues. “But I feel awful about this whole thing. You were working for one of the biggest construction companies in the city. They shouldn’t be able to do this to you.”

“Well, there’s a lot of things that shouldn’t have happened to me, but they did anyways.” He shoves his good arm deep into the pocket of his hoodie and sighs. “I’ve never been a lucky guy. I’ve always had to work hard to get anywhere, you know that.”

“Please think about it, Naruto. Maybe there is someone out there we can afford.”

Naruto’s phone vibrates while he is still thinking of a rebuttal.  _ A text?  _ He checks his phone. It’s from Sasuke. It’s unexpected, and Naruto gets the funny feeling in his stomach that he has slowly grown familiar with over the summer. Sasuke rarely ever texts first. But apparently, today he wants to hang out.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll think about it,” Naruto tells her. He’s distracted now, and realizes too late that he meant to argue his point.

“Thank you Naruto.” The softness of Hinata’s tone makes Naruto feel bad for intending to dispute her.

“Hinata, if you’re going to be home--”

“Yes, I’ll watch Boruto. You can go out and take some time to yourself.”

He kind of hopes she’ll say more; that she’ll ask him who had texted him and why. But she doesn’t, and maybe that’s just as well. Neither of them take much interest in each other’s day-to-day activities these days. They’re busy. Hinata is busy, Naruto tells himself. She works all the time. It doesn’t have to mean anything.

But sometimes, Naruto wonders if he wants her to argue, to ask him why he always wants to go out but never with her, to ask him to stay here, with her. Something, anything to validate why they are still together after all these years. The more they live their lives independent of each other, the more Naruto is becoming aware of just how little passion they share together. Is there even a connection anymore? Neither he nor Hinata seem to mind the extensive time they spend apart. He tells himself that’s just because they are patient and understanding. But the thoughts won’t stop.

There is no heated exchange of emotion, no long hugs or fervent kisses, he realizes. There is never even any anger or fighting-- something that could at least indicate that one of them wants things to change; wants the relationship to work. There is no hostility, but there is no passion, either. Naruto had been able to avoid such thoughts for months by keeping himself occupied and exhausted with work. But now, what is there to distract him? He has nothing but time to think. And the more he does, the more he longs to stop. 

He changes out of his muddy clothes and runs a comb through his hair before hopping on the bus to meet his friend, praying that whatever Sasuke has them doing will be enough to drive the thoughts away.

Sasuke requested that they meet up at a bar Naruto has never heard of. It’s such an inconspicuous place that Naruto has to walk up and down the block twice before finally noticing the tiny sign on a door that indicates he is at the right spot. It is dark and cramped inside. Naruto squints in the dim light, trying to locate Sasuke. There are probably more people in this place than fire safety regulations would allow; mostly men. Naruto wonders why Sasuke chose this location. Sasuke hates crowds and noise. Finally Naruto finds him and squeezes his way through the mass of intoxicated people to sit in the stool next to him.

“Hey, Sasuke, why’d you pick a place like this?” Sasuke doesn’t even glance at him. His voice must be drowned out by the chatter of everyone else within 10 feet of him. And considering Naruto’s normal volume, that’s no easy feat.

It really is a tiny place; there isn’t nearly enough counter space and the seats are packed so closely together that it’s hard for Naruto to maneuver into one without bumping into other people sitting nearby. He struggles to get comfortable without enough leg room, even though he’s normally short enough for space not to be a problem. He feels his left knee touch Sasuke’s right one, and decides to resign himself to this position. Only then does Sasuke realize Naruto is even there. He looks up at him with wide, dark eyes.

“Sasuke?” Naruto is beginning to think something must be wrong. Sasuke looks… drunk? It seems impossible. Naruto has never seen Sasuke more than buzzed. Sasuke is always the one to make fun of Naruto when they go out; his infamous inability to handle his alcohol frequently the butt of Sasuke’s jokes. But that’s only because Sasuke himself never  _ really  _ drinks when they go out together. At least, not until now.

“Naruto…” he says slowly. “It’s good to see you.” He takes a shot, like it’s nothing.

“Well, you’re the one who texted me asking me to come out tonight,” Naruto replies, confused.

Naruto can’t seem to relax in his friend’s presence. Sasuke’s demeanor is simply too strange. And it doesn’t help that Sasuke won’t stop looking at him, really looking at him, another unusual behavior. Actually, he’s outright  _ staring  _ . But it isn’t the same stare he had been met with many weeks back at the prosthetist’s office. There is no hostility in Sasuke’s eyes, but something much softer. He can’t place it, but it does something to him.

“Have a drink, why don’t you?” Sasuke says, and Naruto wants to, badly. “I’ve already had… several,” Sasuke slurs. And then he grins. He actually grins at Naruto.

Naruto frowns and quickly averts his eyes from his friend. That feeling in his stomach is back again. “Sasuke… ” he starts, but Naruto doesn’t know if he’s trying to put a stop to this or egg his friend on.

“What, you’re not feeling fun tonight? Come on, you idiot, relax with me.” Sasuke puts his hand on Naruto’s shoulder and Naruto immediately shrugs him off, unexpected anger rising in his chest. Naruto has never seen Sasuke act like this around him. It’s unnerving, and it’s  _ frustrating. _ He can still feel the heat of Sasuke’s hand on his skin through his windbreaker. And he can still feel Sasuke’s eyes on him. His stomach is in knots and he can’t find a response that works.

“Well, if you’re not gonna relax with me, I’m going home,” Sasuke continues. “You’re ridiculous.” Sasuke stands up angrily and turns away, almost falling over. Naruto has to prop him up.

“No way are you driving home like this,” Naruto says through clenched teeth. “Give me the keys, I’ll drive you.”

“You can drive?”

Naruto can’t tell if Sasuke is being nasty or just poking fun at him. “Just because I don’t have a car doesn’t mean I don’t know how to drive,” Naruto says, pulling Sasuke outside. He takes a deep breath and lets it out graciously, glad to be out of the bar. It’s windy, and a steady rain is falling in the dark. “Where’d you park?” he asks.

“Two blocks down.”

They walk in silence, Naruto frowning at the puddles beneath his feet as he tries not to think about Sasuke walking unsteadily beside him. Naruto swears he can still feel Sasuke stealing glances at him, but doesn’t dare to confirm his suspicions. He can’t get Sasuke’s face out of his mind. The depth of his eyes; the way loose strands of long black hair fall in front of them, making him look disheveled and sympathetic; his smile, which Naruto swears he has never seen before. He reasons it’s only on his mind because it’s so unusual, because it’s so out of character that it doesn’t make sense. 

Sasuke’s car looks new and expensive. They get in Naruto ends up staring at the many buttons on the console in awe. He fiddles with them and momentarily forgets who he’s with and what he’s supposed to be doing. “Oh my god; heated seats!” he shouts. “And a sunroof!”

“You done?” Sasuke asks, sliding down in his seat and crossing his arms like a sulking child. “I could be home by now.”

“Can it, asshat.” Naruto turns the key in the ignition and hits the gas pedal with a little too much force. Sasuke snorts. “Do you remember your address?” Naruto asks flatly.

“Of course I do, moron. I’m not that drunk.”

“I was just checking,” Naruto says. When he catches Sasuke’s gaze again, the intensity of his eyes and the flush of alcohol on his cheeks, he tightens his grip on the steering wheel, one metal hook and one sweaty palm. “Why do you keep staring at me?”

“Wasn’t aware that I was,” Sasuke says, and turns to the window, huffing dramatically. “If we’re going let’s go already.”

“Fine with me,” he mutters. They don’t say a word for the entire drive, but Naruto swears Sasuke can probably hear the way his heart is pounding in his chest.

The rain is heavy by the time they reach Sasuke’s apartment. Naruto insists on helping his friend inside, even though Sasuke (of course) insists he is fine. Considering his expensive-looking car, Naruto is unsurprised that Sasuke’s apartment also appears very high-end.

“Why don’t you lie down on your nice-looking couch, Sasuke? I’ll make you some tea or something.” Sasuke obliges silently. Naruto finds his way to the kitchen and lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in, relieved to see Sasuke slowly returning to his old self. He wipes his still sweaty palm on his pants, knowing he can’t take much more of whoever that other Sasuke is. Not without questioning everything he thinks he knows about himself. 

Sasuke is slumped on the couch with his eyes closed when Naruto returns in with a big mug a few minutes later.

“Look alive, loser,” Naruto jokes. “You have a surprisingly large collection of mugs for a guy who lives alone.” Sasuke silently takes the drink from Naruto. Their fingers touch and Naruto pulls away abruptly when the contact starts his heart pounding again. Sasuke doesn’t seem to notice; his eyes are glazed over as if he doesn’t even realize Naruto is there. Naruto can’t read him, and that’s making things worse.

“Sasuke,” Naruto finally asks softly, after several minutes of silence, “is something wrong?"

Sasuke frowns at him. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re not acting like yourself. You’re… You’re drunk.”

“Pfft, is that all?”

“You’re really drunk. And you keep  _ staring  _ at me. And you grinned at me.  _ Grinned _ , for fuck’s sake. It’s kind of freaking me out. And you… You touched my shoulder. You never touch me. You sure don’t like it when I touch you. And you asked me to come to a crowded, loud place! You hate crowds, you hate people!” Naruto is kind of yelling now. He realizes how ridiculous he must sound, and maybe if this was anyone besides Sasuke, it  _ would  _ be ridiculous.

“And this bothers you?” Sasuke asks, as if it should be a non-issue, as if Naruto should just ignore all the signs that he’s struggling with something. 

“ _ Yes _ , it bothers me! It bothers me because it’s not like you! I’m just… I’m worried about you, idiot! You text me out of nowhere and you’re drunk and I’ve never…. I’ve never seen you look this way before.”

“Look what way?”

“So… so helpless. I don’t know. I don’t know, it’s stupid. Just forget it.”  He sits next to Sasuke on the couch and habitually sticks his good arm into the pocket of his pullover. “Do you need anything else? I should probably get going. Boruto likes when I tuck him into bed. So--” He stops dead as he feels Sasuke’s hand on his leg.

“Naruto, I’m scared,” Sasuke says, and Naruto is struck by how young he sounds. “I’m… terrified,” he says. Sasuke slowly sits himself up on the couch as if it’s a chore. Dark brown eyes meet grey-blue ones and Naruto doesn’t feel so crazy for worrying anymore. But it’s hard for him to think when the place where Sasuke’s hand lays feels like burning and when Naruto can practically feel Sasuke’s breath on his face. He quickly moves himself as far over on the couch as he can and tries to pretend he’s just getting comfortable.

“Talk to me,” Naruto says, even though part of him wants to run the fuck away. This doesn’t feel right. His head is swimming. He wonders facetiously if he is also drunk, to be reacting this way to Sasuke’s presence. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he pleads, pushing away the urge to flee. “Was it me? Did I do something?” Naruto surprises himself with how anxious he gets about the prospect that Sasuke’s emotional state is somehow his fault.

“No, no. I’m… I’m afraid of what will happen to me. I’m afraid of dying, Naruto.”

“Of dying? Sasuke, you’re not going to die. What the hell are you saying?” Naruto pulls his knees up to his chest and hugs himself, watching Sasuke cautiously. He is still trying desperately to slow his heart rate and it won’t bode well if Sasuke tries to get close again. 

“Naruto, listen. Listen.” He speaks slowly, struggling not to slur his speech. “My own brother--” He breaks off for a moment, closing his eyes as if concentrating very hard. “My brother died at about my age,” he continues, and Naruto can sense how much this pains him. “What if I’m next? What if I never make it out of my twenties? There’s no way; no way I’ll pass 28. I’ll never outdo him.”

Well, this is the first time Naruto is hearing about this. He didn’t even know Sasuke _ had _ a brother. He doesn't normally like to talk about himself, and Naruto learned quickly that pressing him for information does not work. But now, Sasuke is confessing to him like he’s on a therapist's couch, and there is real terror in his eyes. 

Naruto is suddenly struck by how much this reminds him of the first time Boruto ever had a nightmare, and how he had spent two hours comforting him with whispered words and warm hugs. Boruto had that same look in his eyes, and Naruto couldn’t bear to leave him. He had stayed in his bed that night, just holding him. They had fallen asleep together, father and son, sharing each other’s warmth.

Sasuke is no child, and the bond between them is far more confusing and complicated than that of a father and son, and yet Naruto sees the despair on Sasuke’s face and his desires are nearly the same. He wants to stay with him until Sasuke feels okay. He wants to hold him, but that desire he ignores. Naruto tells himself it’s just because Sasuke is vulnerable, and just because he cares so much.

“Let me call Hinata. I’ll tell her I won’t be home tonight, that something happened to you.”

“No,” Sasuke says, his voice hoarse. “Don’t do that. You… You have your family. You should be with them. You have Boruto.”

“I’ll tell Hinata to give Boruto a kiss for me,” Naruto says.

Naruto doesn’t expect Hinata to mind, and of course she doesn’t. In fact, she doesn’t question him at all. She doesn’t care, Naruto realizes. The way they are together is the same way they are when they’re apart. Total indifference. Naruto does have Hinata put Boruto on the phone, though, so he can say goodnight, a tradition not once broken in the eight years since his son’s birth. He can tell his son is confused, but he is also too sleepy to ask questions, and Naruto promises to give Boruto a hug as soon as he comes home in the morning.

“We’ll spend the whole day together, yeah? I’ll watch you kick butt in Tecmo Cup!” he promises.

When he hangs up the phone, Sasuke is laying on the couch again, curled up and staring at the floor. “You don’t have to feel guilty, Sasuke. You’re my friend. Friends help each other.”

“I’m going to die,” Sasuke replies. “But it’s not the dying I’m worried about. It’s the disappointing legacy; all of my failures. That’s… that’s the real fear.”

Naruto sits beside him again, finally feeling calm enough to share space with his friend. “You won’t end up a failure, Sasuke. You aren’t one now.”

Naruto reaches his hand out, then pulls back, afraid of how it might feel to give Sasuke any kind of physical comfort. Would he even want that from Naruto? His head still feels fuzzy and he’s a bundle of nerves. Naruto had never been good at managing anxiety. 

“I kind of know how you feel, though,” he continues, pushing through the uneasiness. “I never used to think about stuff like that until after I had the accident. Now, I’m always thinking about what could happen, and what I will have accomplished when it does. And it is scary.”

“But at least you have a family, a life, to keep you grounded.”

“Actually, that’s the scariest part, Sasuke. I have a wife and a son but I still have no idea where I’m headed, and what’s going to happen to me. I feel like I’m floating all the time.”

“I don’t have anyone,” Sasuke says.

“You have me.” A long silence follows as the words sink in for both of them. “We’re friends,” Naruto repeats. He doesn’t know if he means that as a statement or as an argument. Who is he trying to convince?

“Yeah,” Sasuke replies slowly, “we’re friends.” Silence washes over them again until finally Sasuke closes his eyes and sighs. “My head hurts.”

Naruto jumps up, eager for an excuse to ease the tension between them that is making his hair stand on end. “Where do ya keep your ibuprofin? I’ll get you some. And a blanket, yeah?” he adds, noticing Sasuke is shivering.

“Bathroom.”

“Do you mind if I sit here and watch something on your nice TV?” Naruto asks after Sasuke swallows the pills and wraps himself in the blanket. “Or will that bother your head?”

“It’s fine. I’m going to try and sleep, though. I… overdid it,” he admits sheepishly.

Naruto laughs loudly. “You sure did!”

“Urgh,” is the muffled reply as Sasuke turns over and wraps the blanket around him more tightly.

Naruto flips on the TV. There is nothing he wants to watch, but he wants to keep an eye on Sasuke. And he can’t do that in silence. It’s just… too uncomfortable, too frustrating. He needs some kind of noise to distract himself from the buzzing feeling in his head and the quickening of his heartbeat whenever his eyes linger on Sasuke for too long.

It isn’t as if these feelings are entirely new. Naruto has had little moments like this before when they hang out. A lingering gaze or an inadvertent touch could become dizzying. And when it happened, Naruto would find himself irritated. It was a default reaction, an emotion that would bubble up as a defense mechanism to anything Naruto didn’t have a script for. 

These were the moments where an offhanded comment from Sasuke or a petty quarrel between them would bother Naruto to the point of shouting or storming off. It was something Naruto didn’t know how to navigate. But it never lasted long and once he cooled down, Naruto would feel much better and things would continue on as usual.

But tonight, alone together in Sasuke’s apartment with the TV glowing softly and the rain still coming down persistently, Naruto is terrified that something has changed, that his feelings are no longer fleeting and easily ignored. Tonight he knows that Sasuke’s stares were purposeful, that each touch was intentional. Sasuke needed him, and Naruto found himself drawn to that need, because he likes to be needed; he always has. 

Naruto is suddenly aware that their relationship is symbiotic, that Naruto relies on Sasuke’s company as much as Sasuke is now relying on his. Naruto hesitantly turns to Sasuke’s bundled form, already sleeping soundly. He looks peaceful, and Naruto allows himself for the first time to admit that he thinks Sasuke is beautiful. He sighs deeply. He will stay here, just in case Sasuke has a nightmare or something; or suddenly has some new bombshell about his past he wants to drop on Naruto out of nowhere; or gets sick.

The TV drones on, and Naruto feels himself getting tired. He leans back and closes his eyes, not actually expecting to fall asleep in such an odd position. He doesn’t bother detaching his prosthetic. When he opens his eyes he is met with harsh sunlight, and Sasuke standing above him, smirking.

“Have a nice sleep?” he asks him.

Naruto blinks up at him. “What time is it?”

“It’s nearly nine o’clock.”

“Are you feeling any better?”

“Now that I’ve puked three times, yeah.”

Naruto laughs. “You’re almost 30, you are way too old to be getting that drunk!”

“I didn’t have that much!”

They are already back to the usual bickering, much to Naruto’s relief. “Well, then, I guess you’re a lightweight, yeah?"

“I swear, Naruto, I could hit you.”

Naruto sits up and raises his hand, admitting defeat. “Okay, okay. No need to be all grouchy. But I should get home, Boruto is probably already up and wondering where I am.” He quickly makes his way towards the door.

“Naruto?”

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Thank you.”

Naruto smiles warmly. “That’s what friends are for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly but surely...


	4. looking for somewhere to stand and stay, I leaned on the wall and the wall leaned away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some of y'all are excited for the appearance of Gaara, so let me deflate your dreams now and tell you he's not going to show up until chapter 6. That's just the way it is.

When Naruto arrives home from Sasuke’s place, Boruto is already dressed and running around, excitedly chanting, “Tecmo, Tecmo!” It’s presently his favorite game since he became fixated on soccer. It’s no FIFA, but it’s the best Naruto and Hinata could afford for his ninth birthday, and Boruto doesn’t know the difference. Naruto has been secretly brushing up on his soccer knowledge to impress him. Soccer is a sport he loved when he was little but had since forgotten about when he was removed from Jiraiya’s home and put into foster care.

Hinata is also dressed and about ready to head out.

“I’m going grocery shopping,” she informs Naruto. “You’re always the cook now. I want to give you a break, so I’m going to make something special for dinner tonight.”

“Sounds good. I’m sure my stomach will appreciate it.” He smiles at her, and she smiles back.

 _Nothing_ , Naruto thinks. He feels nothing. The exchange is incomparable to how he had felt when Sasuke drunkenly smiled at him last night.

_ Oh my God. Stop. Stop it. _

He hates thinking like this. How can his friendship with Sasuke compare to his relationship with Hinata? They’ve been together for over ten years, they have a child together! Sure, they aren’t the most romantic couple on Earth, but they don’t fight, and they certainly don’t dislike each other.

_ Cut it out. Enough. _

He is not thinking about this anymore. Absolutely not. He pushes the thoughts out and beams at his son.

“Ready to lose to me in Tecmo?”

“You wish, Dad!” Boruto says. He runs into the other room to set up the game, almost knocking Naruto over in the process.

They spend most of the afternoon in front of the TV screen, stuffing themselves with snacks. Naruto used to be great at games (when he could get his hands on some), but now that he’s down an arm, actually playing most games is out of the question. But Boruto is having a blast, and Naruto loves nothing more than seeing his son happy and carefree.

Naruto has always loved kids. He loved other kids when he was one of them. He followed classmates around during recess babbling to them about anything (although they usually ignored him). He invited himself over to their homes until their parents thought he was bad company to keep and the kids told him he couldn’t visit anymore. When he was really small, he tried to hold their hands after class until glares and scoldings from teachers taught him he was doing something wrong, somehow.

He loved kids when he was too young to be called an adult but too old to think of himself as a kid. A few of his homes had several other kids, some of them years younger than he. He never had any siblings, but he did his best to take on a brotherly role; which of course meant both bossing them around and keeping any bullies at bay. In his last home, before he was moved semi-permanently to a ritzier area right outside the heart of Portland, he still remembers one of those kids very clearly.

Konohamaru was half his age, but somehow twice as feisty. They were living with an older man who had no patience for rambunctious children and no business caring for any. He would leave bags of groceries on the kitchen counter and disappear for days at a time. No other child had ever been as bratty and ungrateful as Konohamaru, this man insisted. But that was only because he never gave the kid’s feelings a second thought.

That’s where Naruto came in. The sound of Konohamaru’s wails every night in the bedroom they shared used to make Naruto angry. Throwing a pillow at the boy’s head, Naruto would growl at him to shut the  _ hell _ up already. He was only twelve years old; he wasn’t supposed to be responsible for this.

But one night in the heat of summer when the cicadas were even noisier than Naruto, something changed.

The steady humming of those insects always made Naruto feel lonely. They reminded him of summers with Jiraiya when he was very small; or should he say without him, since Jiraiya was always off to God knows where at all hours of the night, leaving Naruto alone to listen to the songs of these creatures.

On this night, in a bedroom with Konohamaru, Naruto could swear the insects were louder than he’d ever heard. Or perhaps it was just the painful recollection of alienation; isolation; that caused every sound to drag intensify and drag itself out.

_ You’re alone. You’re always alone, and always will be. _

When Konohamaru’s usual sobs started up, Naruto felt something besides the usual anger rise up in him. As tears unexpectedly pooled in his eyes, he finally understood. In a way, he and this boy half his age were the same.

That night, Naruto consoled Konohamaru for the first time, holding him in his arms and poorly reciting fairy tales from memory until the young boy fell asleep. That night, Naruto finally let himself feel the emotional pain he had been trying so hard to repress. That night, Naruto made a promise with himself that if he had a kid someday, he would never let them feel neglected or unloved the way the two of them did now.

Konohamaru helped Naruto reconnect with his much younger self, wounded and raw. Naruto loved him like he would a real brother. Konohamaru followed him around like Naruto was the hottest thing on Earth. And Naruto carried the memory of him all the way to Seattle where he met Hinata and ended up with a boy of his own, years after he had been pulled out of that home on Jiraiya’s whim.

Naruto has always loved kids, but never more than the first day he held Boruto in his arms and whispered a promise to make him happy and to be there for him, always.

Wrapped up in memories, the afternoon passes Naruto by with ease, and he doesn’t think about Sasuke even once.

 

\- - - - -

 

“We got another bill from the hospital,” Hinata tells Naruto after Boruto is snugly tucked into bed. Her face looks grim in the soft light of the flickering television.

Naruto pulls at his hair. “For fuck’s sake! I’ve applied for so many jobs, but no one is hiring. Maybe I should go back to my old job and beg them until they can find some way to put me to use, even with only one good arm.”

“No. Please Naruto, I don’t want you to go back there. I’m still trying to find you a lawyer for what they did to you.”

“So you’re really not giving up on that, yeah?”

“No, I’m not.” She frowns at her fingertips. “I’ve never seen you this beat down before, Naruto. It’s not like you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t really know what _ is _ like me anymore.” He stares at her, and she meets his gaze.

“Hinata, take my hand.” His voice sounds strange to his own ears. He reaches out to her and she grabs on.

“What’s wrong Naruto?” she asks, starting to worry.

“I just… I don’t know.” He moves closer and brushes aside the hair that covers about a third of her face like a curtain. “I’m so stressed about money and finding a job and keeping Boruto happy… I was hoping maybe this would help.” He kisses her gently, thoughtfully. She leans into it. Naruto isn’t expecting fireworks but he is hoping for… something.

Nothing. He doesn’t feel a goddamn thing. He pulls away, his stomach tightening with self-disgust.

“It’s been awhile since we’ve kissed,” Hinata says.

Naruto can’t figure out her tone, and he feels so sick he can only shrug in reply.

“That’s what couples should do, though,” he says dumbly after several moments of painful silence.

“Yes,” she says quietly, turning her face away from him.

“This isn’t anything; is it?” He asks suddenly. “Us -- We aren’t really anything, are we?”

Hinata stares at the ground. “I don’t know,” she whispers.

 

\- - - - -

 

Three days later, Hinata leaves for work again. She isn’t supposed to return for at least a week. Neither of them have attempted to initiate any kind of intimacy since that night, and Naruto is pretty sure neither of them want to.

But it’s okay, he tells himself. Naruto has resigned himself to this life the same way Hinata has. They have Boruto to care for and plenty of financial woes to keep them occupied for the next decade or so. He tells himself that marriage is just like this; it isn’t only about feelings. Marriage is about two adults coming together. It’s about mutual support.

And if they aren’t fighting, what does Naruto have to complain about? There are plenty of people he went to school with who have already gone through very messy breakups, and even some divorces. He should consider himself lucky that he found a woman he can coexist with, even if both of them are more content to keep their distance from each other.

But then there’s Sasuke. When they are apart, Naruto feels the difference. He feels his frowns deepen; his resolve weaken. When Naruto lies awake in bed at night, he scowls at the ceiling trying to figure out just what it is he’s missing.

 

\- - - - -

 

Boruto is out cold after a rough evening where Naruto struggled to help him complete his homework. Frustrated to the point of arguing, Naruto finally relented and let Boruto take a breather in his bedroom to recharge. When Naruto came to check in on him a little while later, Boruto was sleeping soundly, and Naruto (knowing that he tries so hard to be a good student) thought it would be unkind to wake him.

But now, with nothing left to distract himself, Naruto finds himself sitting at his cluttered desk staring helplessly at all the bills that still need to be paid. Hinata’s salary is simply not enough to cover everything. He pulls at his hair in frustration, his leg bouncing erratically. And when that’s not enough to decompress him, he claws at his scalp. He wants to scream. This is simply too much.

His phone starts buzzing and he almost jumps out of his skin. “Hello?”

“Naruto! It’s me, Sakura. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you.”

“Uh, that’s okay. What’s up?”

“Don’t you remember? I said I was going to try and help you out. Well, I found something. Someone, actually.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Naruto hears her exhale into the phone.

“Someone I know knows a lawyer, Naruto. He specializes in personal injury claims.”   
  
“As if I could afford a lawyer.” Naruto doesn’t mean to snap at her but he is exhausted and miserable, and he’s already had this conversation with Hinata.

“Naruto, would you just listen? He does pro bono work on the side.” Several seconds of silence from Naruto, and Sakura must realize he has no clue what that means. “It means he takes on certain cases free of charge to the client.”

“And why would anybody do that?” Naruto asks, skeptical.

“Because there are certain people who can’t afford legal help any other way, despite how much they might need it,” she calmly explains. “People like you, Naruto. And there are, believe it or not, other people who are looking for a chance to help.”

“How would you know what my circumstances are?” Everything he says is coming out wrong.

“I guess… I don’t,” Sakura says, finally. “But you were the one who called me about wanting to give up your new arm, Naruto. I know we may not know anything about each other anymore. But if there’s one thing I do know, it’s that you’ve always been too stubborn to ask for help. So I figured I’d look into it myself. And this is what I found. So you can take this information. Or not.”

“No. No way. I’m not going to get free help from anyone. I’ve worked hard my entire life, I don’t want anyone’s pity.”

“Okay, Naruto. But you have a kid, don’t you? Don’t forget about them. Call me sometime. I still do want to catch up. Goodnight.”

That hits a nerve. Naruto practically throws the phone away from him like it carries some disease. Sakura still knows how to cut deep. As blunt as she is, Naruto can’t find it in his heart to say she is wrong. He does have Boruto to think about, and maybe, just maybe --

But no. If he asks for that kind of help, there’s no way he could live with himself.

His phone rings again and he groans loudly. All he wants is to crawl under his blankets and disappear for a week. This time it’s Hinata.

“What’s up?”

“I was just calling to see how things are going.”

“Not great,” Naruto mutters. The rest of the short conversation misses him entirely. Any response he gives is automated. He considers asking for Hinata’s advice about the lawyer, but can’t bring himself to mention it. Naruto already knew she’d agree with Sakura. She’d already made herself clear about what she thinks he should do.

But they don’t understand. They can’t comprehend what it feels like to ask for help when you’ve been taking care of yourself for about as long as you can remember. For someone who prides himself on having left a lonely life in foster care behind to start a life for himself with no one else’s support, to ask for assistance now felt devastating.

Suddenly Hinata is saying goodnight; the conversation has gone over Naruto’s head entirely. He wants to say “wait,” but “goodnight” is all that comes out.

Naruto can’t remember the last time either of them said “I love you” to each other. He thinks back to their kiss several nights ago; his brief and sad attempt to be nineteen again, if only for one night. Back then, their relationship felt right; it made sense. Desperation takes hold of him and reaches for his phone again.

Maybe he can still fix this. But once his finger is on the call button, his resolve wavers. Whatever feeling that surfaces now, clouding his eyes, is not the kind that can be expelled with hollow “I love you”s.

Naruto isn’t really anyone’s husband. And if he can’t pay his bills and support Boruto, he isn’t really a father, either. He’s a fake. A cheap imitation. He isn’t who he thinks he is. He isn’t who he wants to be.

Naruto knows he shouldn’t do it (oh god, it’s definitely a bad idea), but he finds himself texting Sasuke. It’s been nearly two weeks since they last spent time together; plenty of time for Sasuke to reclaim his dignity from his drunken meltdown.

_ “ _ Want to come over and watch a hockey game tonight?” He texts.

“Sure…?” is the reply.

Naruto is not the husband or the father he thinks he should be, but maybe he can still be someone’s friend.

 

\- - - - -

 

Sasuke seems out of place in Naruto’s dingey apartment, like he was cut out of a magazine and pasted into Naruto’s sad little life. Naruto feels silly the moment he invites him inside. Sasuke belongs anywhere  _ but _ here.

“I’m sorry this isn’t anything fancy like your place is.” Naruto rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Do you want me to get you anything? I think we have juice in the fridge. Maybe even a beer or two.”

“I’m fine, Naruto.”

“Alright, well the game just started. I think it’s gonna be a good one!” He’s jumpy, and his hand keeps searching for items to pick up, to organize, to return to their proper locations. Words sit heavy on his chest but he can’t push them out.

“Where’s Boruto?” Sasuke asks as he takes his coat off and sits down on the somewhat faded upholstery of the couch Hinata bought years ago.

“Oh, he’s already in bed. We don’t let him stay up past ten, or else he’s miserable the next day and can’t focus in school. He conked out early tonight, actually.”

Naruto senses Sasuke relax with this knowledge. Actually, he literally sees Sasuke’s frown fade. Was Sasuke anticipating meeting Boruto? Did he agree to show up here despite his obvious discomfort with that possibility? Naruto is a bit thrown off by the thought and it makes him feel even more anxious.

Sasuke is usually the type to have no problem saying no to something he really doesn’t want to do. So does he really want to be here, in Naruto’s shitty apartment, knowingly being confronted with the reality of who Naruto is outside of their nights out together? There are so many things Naruto suddenly wants to ask him.

Of course, now that Sasuke is actually here, Naruto finds himself unable to speak about anything troubling him. Instead, he spends most of the game babbling to Sasuke about what is happening and swearing at the screen whenever a penalty is called on the team he is rooting for.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” he asks Sasuke, right before the game is to go into overtime.

Sasuke raises an eyebrow at his friend. “Naruto, do  _ you _ want something?”

Naruto chuckles nervously. “I know it’s a bit weird that I invited you over here, but I can’t just leave Boruto alone, ya know?”   


“Hinata isn’t here?”

Was Sasuke expecting to meet the whole family tonight? And he  _ still _ agreed to show up?   
  
“No, she’s at work, like usual. I told you she’s a flight attendant, right? She’s gone a bunch of days at a time.”

“Do you miss her when she goes?”   
  
“What kind of question is that?” Naruto asks him, incredulously. He rubs his palm nervously on his leg, intentionally avoiding his gaze. “Yeah of course I miss her. I mean we’re married and all. What’re you interviewing me for? You writing a biography about me or something?” Naruto grins stupidly at him, hoping to divert to another topic.

“Shut up,” Sasuke mutters, clearly embarrassed.  “I was just wondering. You usually jump at the chance to share aspects of your life with me. ”

“Maybe I’m just not in a sharing mood,” Naruto grumbles, resting his prosthetic on his lap and turning away from Sasuke on the couch next to him with an, admittedly somewhat childish, frown. “You should understand that.”   
  
“I do understand. So I guess I’ll leave now. We can talk later, when you’re ready.”

“What’s with the attitude?”

“There’s no attitude. I simply don’t see the point in this if you aren’t going to talk to me. Isn’t that why you invited me here last minute?”

“You always act like you know me. It’s so frustrating!” Naruto is trying not to raise his voice for Boruto’s sake but, well, self-restraint is not exactly his strong point.

“If I thought I knew everything there was to know about you, I wouldn’t have asked you any questions in the first place. This is ridiculous, Naruto. What’s going on with you?” He grabbed the remote from Naruto’s lap and switched off the TV. “Stop being an idiot and just tell me.”

“Hey!”

“Talk to me now, or I’m leaving.”

“Sasuke, I’m trying, okay?. I just… I can’t.”

“You can’t what?”

“I can’t talk about this, Sasuke. It’s too hard. I’ve tried, I really have but --” He stops, sighs, and turns even further so his face is now sort of buried in the couch; his legs pulled up toward the rest of his body like a sick kid trying to convince his parents not to make him go to school. “I’m kinda really ashamed about it, is all.”

“You’re what, now?” Sasuke asks. “I can’t hear a word you’re saying. What are you  _ doing,  _ weirdo?” He’s definitely annoyed now, but it seems like there’s a part of him that almost enjoys this. Maybe he likes being the one to pry for a change.

Naruto groans loudly and reluctantly turns back around so that he’s facing Sasuke on the couch. “Ashamed! Embarrassed! Like, it’s hard to talk about, okay?”

Sasuke doesn’t say anything. He just waits. It’s his way of letting Naruto know that there’s no need for posturing. Maybe he’s right.

And, well, Sasuke does know Naruto. Sasuke has seen him in his dirty sneakers and his five dollar sweatpants he bought who knows how many years ago. He knows Naruto came here with nothing; that he still has to take the bus everywhere and that he can’t afford to go out to dinner unless Sasuke’s paying. Sasuke is sitting on Naruto’s ratty couch in front of his tiny TV right now, and was even expecting the whole family to be present and accounted for. Maybe Naruto _ is _ being silly.

“I’m failing, Sasuke. Remember when you confessed to me that you think you’ll end up a failure? Well, unlike you, I’m right on track to earn that label.”

“Hm. I don’t believe that, Naruto.”

“Well, believe it,” Naruto says. His voice is bitter, biting. He’s starting to let the feelings come out. “I spent  _ years _ trying to be a husband and a dad, but I’m neither of those things. I’m just a deadbeat with no prospects. I’ve never been to a real college, I’ve never worked anywhere but in construction, and I’ve never thought about what I’d do if I couldn’t do that anymore! And now it’s too late! I’m 28 years old, I’m stuck where I am. I’m trapped in a life that feels foreign to me.”   
  
“You are a husband and a dad.”

“Am I? Am I, Sasuke? Because a husband and a dad is supposed to be able to provide for and support their family, and I can’t do that with no job, no prospects, and no idea what I  _ want _ !

“Naruto, you’re yelling. Try to calm down. Be more clear with me.”

“How much clearer can I be? I’m drowning in debt, I can’t pay my bills, and my doctor suggested I use this lawyer who would take on my case for free! It goes against everything I’ve ever stood for, to get free help like that. But I don’t know what else to do at this point, because I still don’t have a job and these bills aren’t going anywhere.”

Naruto is furious at himself. He wants to hit something, and he would if Sasuke’s eyes weren’t burning holes into his body, watching his every move. What’s with him, anyways? He’s not even drunk this time. Frustrated tears well up in his eyes and he just prays Sasuke can’t see them. He wasn’t going to be like this tonight. He didn’t want to be like this.

“Well. first of all, you should definitely look into that lawyer,” Sasuke says, carefully. “And second of all, you know I’d be willing to help you out with some money.”

“Absolutely not!” Naruto hops off the couch like it has suddenly burst into flames. “I don’t want your help, you’re part of the problem!” His finger is aimed at Sasuke accusingly before he even registers the full extent of what he’s doing. He’s definitely deflecting, but he can’t just go back now. Now it’s a fight.   
  
“I’m part of the problem?” he asks, standing up to face Naruto.

“Yes!” Naruto throws his arm up dramatically. “Ever since we became friends I’ve felt less and less sure of who I am and the decisions I’ve made so far! I wouldn’t be doubting my relationship this very moment if it weren’t for you always getting in my head!”

“Your relationship? Naruto, what are you talking about? You’re really starting to piss me off.” He grabs his coat. “I’m leaving. You can text me when you’re ready to stop being so cryptic.” He breezes past Naruto, and the closeness of their bodies causes Naruto’s stomach to do flips.

This is so much so fast. Naruto didn’t want for his feelings to spill out so crudely. The most familiar fear creeps up within him. Abandonment. He took things too far; let his frustration and shame and anger out, and in all the wrong ways. Now Sasuke may not want anything to do with him anymore, and Naruto only has his foolish intensity to blame for it.

_ Okay, breathe. _

Sasuke wasn’t gone yet. Naruto  _ could _ fix this, but not without being honest.

_ Breathe. _

Naruto could do this, but not without restraining his knee-jerk emotional response. The anger he feels is a defensive response to what he doesn’t want to confront about himself.

_ Maybe it’s time to finally address what I’ve been trying to repress. Hah. That rhymed. _

“Sasuke, wait, please.” Naruto uses everything he has to keep his voice level. Sasuke lets go of the doorknob and turns around to face him. “Please, Sasuke. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not being clear with you. I’ve been trying to deny it even to myself.”

“Deny what?”   
  
“Deny that spending time with you makes me see that my marriage is unfulfilling and unhappy,” he says, his voice breaking. He is actually crying now, despite himself. God, how he hates this.

“Naruto, I don’t know what I did, but--”

“No, you didn’t  _ do _ anything, Sasuke. I mean, not really. Everything I say is coming out wrong. I’m really sorry. It’s me. It’s all me; this is all my fault.” He is basically babbling, trying to get words out in between sobs that were never supposed to escape.

“I want to feel the same way about Hinata that I feel about you. And I’ve tried, I really have. I just can’t. And what does that mean? What does that fucking  _ mean _ , Sasuke?”

Sasuke hasn’t moved an inch from where he stands near the door. His face looks like a mixture of shock, fear, and something unplaceable. He seems frozen, like he is being confronted with a situation he never allowed himself to imagine was a possibility.

“I didn’t realize just how dead my relationship was until you came into the picture, and made me -- Ugh! Would you quit standing there, just staring at me?” Sasuke is living, breathing proof that Naruto is still capable of having the feelings he assumed left him forever as a natural part of marriage and aging.

“For fuck’s sake Naruto, what are you trying to say to me?”

But there’s no way Sasuke doesn’t already know the answer. Maybe he’s as scared as Naruto is. Maybe even moreso. Maybe Naruto actually, seriously, has to be the one to do this. But, god, he never wanted to be the one.  
  


With a strained laugh, Naruto wipes tears away with his sleeve. “Wow, Sasuke,” he starts. “You’re really gonna make me spell it out for you, yeah? You really aren’t going to make this easier on me, are you? Fine. I guess I can’t blame you.”

He crosses the room until he is squarely face to face with his friend. Naruto stares right at him, and Sasuke meets his eyes. His hair is in his face, as always. Why does Sasuke even bother putting his hair up if he’s not going to do a thorough job? Naruto laughs again, despite himself. So this is what it’s come to. With a stiff and awkward motion, Naruto reaches to brush the hair aside and Sasuke’s eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t step away from Naruto.

“Naruto, what are you--”

“Whenever I get close to you, whenever we touch accidentally, whenever we meet each other’s gaze like this, I feel things I’ve never felt in nearly ten years of marriage,” he whispers, his hand lingering, brushing lightly against Sasuke’s cheek. “I keep trying to ignore it--In fact I’ve been doing a great job of ignoring it, until recently. It doesn’t match up with my vision of myself. It’s… confusing.”

As gently as he can, he guides Sasuke’s lips to his and closes his eyes as his entire body reacts to the kiss they share. Fireworks are for the movies, but this sure comes close.

“Naruto… ” Sasuke’s voice is barely a whisper. “Why did you…?”   
  
“I’m so, so sorry, Sasuke. I just had to know. I had to know if kissing you would feel like kissing her.”

“And?” Sasuke asks, hoarsely.

“It doesn’t. It’s so different.” Naruto laughs again; it’s all the expression he seems capable of right now, with his head buzzing and his heart still racing. “I  _ want _ to say better, but… This is terrible, Sasuke. This ruins everything. I’m married. I should be happy. I should have what I want by now. I can’t just go back in time and ask for a re-do.”

“Maybe this is going forward.”

“I feel sick, Sasuke. I don’t know what to do.” The high could only last so long. The anxiety returns in full force.

“Naruto, this is... a lot,” Sasuke says, shakily. “I didn’t even realize you felt like this. Or, I didn’t want to think you did. I would never let myself… believe that.”

“What do I do? What the hell do I  _ do _ ?”

“You should take some time to think. Which means I should go.”

“Okay,” Naruto says.

“But first, here.” WIth movements much stealthier than Naruto’s, Sasuke wraps an arm around Naruto’s waist and kisses him again. “Don’t forget how this makes you feel,” he tells him, although truthfully it sounds more like a plea. Does he want this as much as Naruto does?

Sasuke leaves, and Naruto has the sense that he is unraveling at the seams.

Everything he thought he was, and everything he thought he could be, is no more. New potentials are left in the wake of the old ones, but the shift is frightening enough that Naruto decides he’d prefer to doze in the chair near Boruto’s bed rather than face his own empty room.

And then Naruto sees Boruto, staring at him through a crack in his bedroom door. The moment they make eye contact, the door slams shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "You know I dreamed about you, for 29 years before I saw you"  
> (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rCR0Tr2HTfA&index=8&list=PLnoW7nEN2raurIlWoXiMpXJBRD1Q-uFm8)
> 
> I'm actually working on a playlist for this fic. I'm hoping to post it soon and update it as I go!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [mortis causa](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10767669) by [mazzo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mazzo/pseuds/mazzo)




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